


Quiet Space

by Nessa47



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessa47/pseuds/Nessa47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua has been away for too long. Coming back here now, seeing him again... It tangles the jumble of feelings inside him until he's walking high up on thread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Space

_I could wait a hundred hours_

_Stay the same in sun and showers_

_Pick apart a hundred flowers_

_Just to be quiet_

_With you~_

 

_***     ***     ***_

_A breath_ , Killua thinks, humming to himself as he tentatively slides his fingertips over the gentle slope of the sleeping Gon’s nose. He knows he really shouldn’t, but it’s just a touch, just one, and so light. Gon doesn’t wake up. And Killua thinks - about nice things. Sunshine. Warmth, glimmering over tan shoulders and sparkling in honey eyes. Quiet breaths. 

  _To hear Gon breathe… Really is so precious._

 He slides his eyes shut in the dim light, feeling listless breezes caress him from the window, sweet and cold. He curls up on his side next to Gon, letting comfort in all its gentleness be kind to him, hearing the slow, even breathing of this most precious person laying beside him. His heartbeat is a quiet thrum of nerves and wishes, wants. He’s so glad to be back with Gon, even if it’s only temporary.

 The pillow is soft and cool beneath his cheek; he sighs into it, an expression of the relentless fluttering within him. Back in this room, back in this house, too many things race through his mind, both good and bad - and, oh gosh how he’s missed it, missed the clear crystal skies and jaunty gull cries and the hurried maelstrom of concern and motherly affection that is Mito-san, but deep down he knows that the thing that drew him back so effortlessly, despite the danger of leaving Alluka behind in Canary’s care, was the unreconciled mess of emotions and memories tied to shimmering eyes and vivid smiles and pure, unconcerned laughter that he had grown all too familiar with. _Gon_. Scents of home and adventurousness and a natural magnetism that Killua found he was attached to, even after three years and a world of separation. Killua lay in a bed he shouldn’t share, with a person he shouldn’t remember so clearly, but even now, gazing at Gon’s peaceful, sleeping face, Killua felt his shoulders shudder and chest ache under some unbearable weight he’d somehow pushed aside before.

Gon was so beautiful; Killua hated to think but it was true. The defined shape of high cheekbones and a sharp jawline broadened into dimpled cheeks and a pink mouth that grinned easily. His eyes were intense and playful and there was something Killua found utterly evocative about them, the way they shimmered and flirted and expressed. But pain lay in empty space between each sparkle, curling at the corners of Gon’s mouth with each smile. His eyes softened every time he’d glance Killua’s way, then the pain clouded over. A look that said too many things- _I’m_ _sorry-_ things that dampened Killua’s eyes, tightened his throat and forced him to turn away. Though here, surrounded by shadows that didn’t move and in the path of moonlight through a gauzy curtain, hidden by the veil of Gon’s deep slumber, Killua could let his eyes fill.

 He clenched his fists, wondering for the billionth time that week why he’d decided to come. When Gon’d called him, he’d been thrown off guard, and all his sense of reality had been dislodged.

 “I’m turning 18.”

 Killua’d noted the changes immediately- how Gon’s voice had deepened, playful undertones now a subtle sing-song lilt rather than the note itself. Killua’s breath had slipped away. He’d gripped the phone, too tightly.

 “That’s right.”

 In those two words, had Gon heard change? What had he noticed first? Had Gon also, for a moment, almost been unbound? Had hearing Killua now, after so long, had the same dizzying effect?

 “Well I…” A sheepish laugh, “I know it’s stupid cuz you’re busy, but I thought you might wanna come over. If at all possible.”

 Killua had sat down hard, gritting his teeth, unable to agree or deny or plan or dismiss…

A thread inside him had pulled taut, and here he was, walking it.

 He heaved another sigh, turning onto his back. The ceiling pressed down upon him, a blank slate, and as Killua raked his hands unsteadily through his hair, memories started to swim before his eyes. Memories that Killua had fought for too long, and still was too weak to dispel on his own. He bit his lip, wishing that he’d gained his better judgement faster and just said no.

 The last week had been magic. A reeling flurry of meals and traded stories and activities, not a quiet space in between. Killua had been so busy, so mesmerized that he hadn’t stopped at all to breathe or think. It all flooded him, now, a disturbed jumble of stirred up emotions.

Killua didn’t want to see Gon - hadn’t since he left. Texts were one thing. Postcards. But this… It wasn’t fair, not to Gon or him. But Killua didn’t want it. Not yet, not when Gon still-

 Killua sat up, staring into the hollow darkness. Very carefully he shuffled out of the blankets and slid off the bed to stand, hovering, frozen, above Gon. He blinked away wetness in his eyes, steeling himself. He wasn’t even supposed to be in bed with Gon, anyways, though he hadn’t questioned it any other night that week. The makeshift bed would do fine tonight- _even if Gon was warmer-_ and Killua would sleep _there_ . Where estranged friends slept, not next to Gon, listening to breaths and _thinking_.

 He laid down stiffly, trying to ignore how everything smelled like Gon. Trying to ignore the drop of his heart as he curled into the blanket and shivered for the distinct lack of warmth. His lashes lowered against his own feelings.

  _It’ll warm up, anyhow._

 If he could just drift off and find himself in sunshine tomorrow morning, then he’d-

 “Killua…?”

 Killua’s eyes jerked open, body tensing. Gon’s voice was a drowsy, confused murmur in the rustle of blankets as both of them sat up to look at each other. Except, Killua wasn’t ready for Gon yet. Tousled hair; sleepy amber eyes; droopy, broad shoulders - Killua’s tears pressed against him, lodging in his throat. For every feeling about that boy that climbed into his chest, filling up the aching hollows, he knew what Gon would think. Because Gon couldn’t ever see it, too consumed by his-

 He whispered, walking the thread once more, “Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

 “Huh? You moved, Killua.” Gon tilted his head, looking from Killua to the empty space next to himself, confused. Killua swallowed.

 “Yeah. Go to sleep Gon.” He had no plausible lie, no good excuse. How to say it was because he held himself back? Because he was so scared it numbed all the warmth? Gon didn’t get it.

 “Did I kick you? Or hog the blankets?” Gon’s fingers wound apologetically around the comforter. Killua raked a hand through his hair shakily, and his heart gave a painful twist.

 “No, no. You’re fine. We’ve been sharing the bed a lot. Thought it was only fair you got to sleep in it alone.”

 His heart rate climbed when Gon gave Killua a pained look. Too intense for sleepiness and dreams. Clouded over softness. Killua bit back his sob.

 “I don’t want to sleep in it alone.” Gon’s words were careful, but heavy, laden with so much more. No, Killua couldn’t. It didn’t belong to him anymore _\- he didn’t belong to him anymore-_ maybe never did - ah, he hated this.

 “Sorry, Gon. I-”

 “Killua moves a lot in his sleep.” Gon’s voice dropped to a whisper, and the thread around Killua pulled tight, cutting into his flesh.

 “What?” A breath. He’d hurt Gon, in some way. Made him feel guilty. Damn it.

 Gon drew his knees up to his chest, casting the same pained look to some spot in the distance that Killua could never reach.

 “Killua’s restless,” he explained. “He rolls over, kicks, shifts a lot… Even says things.”

 Once again, Killua’s breath was pulled from him. Or maybe crushed by the heavy stones that dropped onto his chest. His voice was thick, strained. A plea to just skim over all of it. “Oh. Sorry-”

“You say my name, Killua.” Gon’s eyes looked unearthly, glowing in the silvery tendrils of moonlight, haunted.

 “At first I wasn’t sure- but I listened. And, and you do, and I-” Gon swallowed, his brow furrowing. “At first I didn’t know what to do. You… Sound really scared… Saying it, over and over. Sometimes you mumble other stuff that I don’t catch, but I know you say my name. Really clearly, the past two nights. Over and over again,” Gon breathed, looking down at his hands. “Over and over again.”

 Killua felt one of the stones slip, grinding, crushing. He should’ve held himself at a greater distance.

 “Gon, you’re tired. C’mon, I just-”

 “But.” And then the unearthly glow of his eyes were on Killua, eerie and all too familiar. “But not when I do something. If… If you wake me up, then I… I whisper back.”

 Oh.

 “When I say things, quietly, like ‘It’s okay’, or ‘I’m here’, or even just ‘Killua’... You stop, you calm down. So I do that.”

 Bared. Exposed. His heart bleeding out into all the things he tried to hide, light expanding where air wouldn’t-

 Gon twisted, curling in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin on them. Both of their eyes were damp. Gon sniffled.

 “A few days ago, when I first heard you, I thought, if you agreed to sleep in my bed, then I could do that for you. It calmed you down,  and I thought maybe I was doing something good for you.” His voice broke, and he gave a bitter laugh, one of self-loathing.“Since it’s probably my fault.”

 Killua’s insides convulsed with pain. He clenched his fists, feeling the grief well up inside him.

  _That._

  _I don’t wanna be here._

  _Because once again, I can’t help._

  _I can’t make Gon forgive himself._

 The same glint of resentment and hatred in Gon that Killua had seen back then- just as terrifying -wasted tears and sorries and hurt over everything they’d gone through, and yet, after all this time, Killua was once again no help. Useless.

 Oh God.

 “Please, Gon,” He felt his lower lip tremble, his voice a strained plea. Tears, hot and only few of many, too many, blurred his vision, dripping slowly down his face. It wasn’t fair. So much affection and warmth inside him for Gon, and to see Gon turn on himself with hostile words and anger… Was more painful than anything.

 No solace could be given, no words could be offered that would hit Gon and break his twisted view of himself. It left Killua empty, reaching, hurt and alone and scared. He needed Gon to be safe, had always wanted to protect him, but you couldn’t protect someone from themselves.

Which is why Killua feared, despite Gon’s promise. When was the hatred Gon felt going to overpower his promise? When would it be too much, that he figured it’d be okay to break his promise because it would be better if he wasn’t around, anyways?

  _It’s not fair._

 “What do you want me to do, Gon?” His whisper cracked and stabbed him. He wanted to leave the world, hurt, and all its casualties behind and _comfort_ Gon, but he was tense, suspended high on his thread. He needed Gon to tell him how to help. But he was scared of getting close.

 Gon dragged in a ragged breath. His mouth twisted down at the corner, his fists curling into the white cotton of his blanket.

“Lay with me,” His features contorted in despair and desperation as he lifted his head, turning teary eyes on Killua with a pleading sob, “Let me _hold you_.”

 How stupid to forget that Killua and Gon needed the same thing.

 A flame flared up inside him, and he was thrown into dismay and confusion and want - but he didn’t know what to do.

  _Will it help? Should I?_

 He felt like he might break, so he moved very slowly. Gon’s eyes widened a fraction, surprise, relief, gratitude. Killua sat on the edge of the bed first, looking Gon in the eyes. He wanted to push away Gon’s gratitude.

 “Why?” His whisper was low and hollow, the cavern in his heart swimming with feelings.

 Gon stared back, eyes flashing. After a long, heavy silence, he whispered,

“Because you look really small sometimes, Killua. Lost. And-and you’re a lot stronger than me. So much stronger,” He blinked away tears, gazing at Killua the way Killua had gazed at Gon. Like he was something precious. Killua couldn’t breathe.

“Sometimes, though, you look like you’re about to cry. Like you need me. And I _want_ to help. I want to comfort you, Killua.”

 Gon’s head ducked, hands tugging the covers. Killua’s throat ached with sobs he’d swallowed. He trembled. After all this time, he’d wanted comfort, wanted _to_ comfort, and Gon could say it so easily that it threw Killua off balance, up high on his suspended thread.

 “I want to know that Killua forgives me.” And there it was again, feelings Gon had obviously fostered. Guilt, so much guilt that he thought he still needed to reconcile it. And it hurt. Because Killua _had_ forgiven him-

 But then… He’d left.

 Did running away erase the forgiveness he’d already given?

 Killua couldn’t hold back the small cry that pounded in his chest - it fell out of his mouth like tears fell from his eyes, and Gon was a bleary shape in unmoving darkness, no longer physical, but born again in heartbreaking abstract, gone from all the simplicity and safe distance that Killua had become accustomed to. Gon, Killua, all these feelings had grown so immensely complicated.

 He crawled over Gon to the other side of the bed, wiping his eyes as he laid down once again beside him. Gon blew out a careful breath, settling back down, and Killua’s heart pounded because he was nervous and didn’t know what to do - Gon would draw close and it was everything Killua wanted but-

 How could it possibly help Gon?

 It didn’t make sense.

 In the dim moonlight, though, what did it matter? The space was quiet, in a familiar room full of familiar, wonderful things, and the pillow was cool beneath Killua’s cheek as he turned over, away from that most precious person. And if Gon’s arms reached out, so cautious, so gentle, to wrap around Killua and pull him close, only the moon would know.

 The warmth he’d missed and mourned enveloped him, a steady heartbeat and gentle breaths ghosting across his skin. Gon’s fingers were reassuring as they traced circles over Killua’s shoulders, his waist, his hair. Killua had never, ever been _held_ before. He didn’t realize Gon’s arms would wrap completely around him and overlap. All the tension started to fall away after a moment, his nerves easing, once again losing unfathomable distress to sunshine brightening amber eyes and glistening in smiles and the promise of laughter when they both woke.

 Nothing had really changed. Killua could feel himself fill with things he still wanted to say and reasons to be cautious and scared and distant. But it was just a moment of peace and kindness - just one. Killua could let himself sink, let the darkness cloud over when Gon’s breathing resumed a slow, even pace. He could ignore the world, hurt and all its casualties. Because it was _Gon_ , the smell of home and words of laughter. And from under the lull of encroaching sleep, he realized, when Gon curled around him, soft lips suddenly touching the nape of his neck, the thread pulled tight seemed to unwind, finally letting him down. And Killua loved being back here, with Gon. He could sleep.

He let out a breath.

  _To breathe with Gon… Really is so precious._

  


**Author's Note:**

> This is a small drabble/oneshot! Beta'd by the amazing, amazing Fireolin!!!! She made it ten thousand percent better! :D


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